


Tiny problem

by LittleNerd, Murder_and_Snacks (LittleNerd)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cute Peter Parker, De-Aged Peter Parker, Domestic Avengers, F/M, IronDad and SpiderSon, Kid Peter Parker, M/M, Major Character Death (not real), Maybe anxiety triggering, Not Abandoned, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter parker toddler, Protective Tony Stark, Really bad baby talk, Thor is good with kids, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, adding more as i go, just a tight work schedule, some angst in later chapters, sorry if my grammar sucks, they are happy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24341227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleNerd/pseuds/LittleNerd, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleNerd/pseuds/Murder_and_Snacks
Summary: Explaining to May that they had, accidentally, regressed her 16-year-old nephew to a pint-sized toddler wasn't one of his proudest moments. For someone so small she sure as hell packs a punch and knows a lot of colorful language in both English and Italian it seems.How were they supposed to know that the stupid rock changed powers when moved to another realm? It didn't come with an instructions manual. (They found that one later in the Asgardian library after some digging buy Thor and Loki).-----Or Parker luck strikes again and Peter is now a pint-sized toddler spending his birthday with the Avengers, just not how he thought he would. Tony tries (and succeeds, don't doubt yourself so Tony) to be there for Peter and fluff and cuddles occur. A tiny bit of angst in the future.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Thor, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 68
Kudos: 260





	1. Butt naked, cape wearing, mush monster

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> This is my first ever story here. Been reading forever and writing at home but never had the guts to actually post anything, got some terrible case of perfectionism. (Thanks evil teachers).  
> But here we are! Engish is not my first language and I hope my grammar isn't terrible but if you find something wrong or if I used a word wrong please let me know, or if I wrote something so weird you can't even understand me.  
> Comments and kudos are always welcome!  
> Thanks!

Who decided that peas were a healthy snack and a good source of nutrients? Tony wholeheartedly believed that person was a complete idiot, why else would one chose to cultivate tiny, squishy marbles of green mush.

"God damn it!"

  
"Tony..."

  
"Stark, I do not believe that kind of langue is appropriate around someone so young." Thor paused, confusion evident in his face. "He is considered young even in your lifespan, am I right?"

Tony glared up at the four people crowd, now silently, judging him with stern faces and crossed arms, the four and a half people crowd, or four and one third.

The latter currently giggling, red-faced, and gasping for breaths while swiping some more green projectiles of the little tray and happily clapping his hands while observing them bounce away.

  
Well, Thor wasn't wrong per se but he smacked his head really, fucking hard against that corner, and now his knees and back were protesting after all the kneeling, bending, and crawling. Rubbing his temple Tony sat back on his hinges and studied the tiny cause to the giant green mess, who currently was sporting a look similar to Banner's green situation.

"Then maybe one of you can take over as the human robovacc?" Standing up he heard his back crack in at least four places and his left knee didn't straighten all the way, babysitting aged him five times faster than any fighting he'd done in his career.

  
"Oh, don't be such a drama queen Tony, you secretly love all of this." Scowling at Rhodey and then back at the green nuisance in front of him, he wasn't so sure anymore. He scoffed and turned his glare back to Rhodey instead.

  
"Great, you'll scrub the kitchen while I put Green Bean in a bath." Reaching out he tried to find the least sticky surface to grab the kid, realizing there was none, he grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him up on his hip, staining his shirt in the process.

  
"I do believe the cabinets require some scrubbing." Catching two small, mushy hands before they slapped him in the face, he spun around and strolled towards the bathroom. "Oh, and Honey Bear there's some out here too."

Not wanting to sanitize the entire bathroom, he kept the now squirming boy on his hip while filling the tub with warm water and adding some bubbles.

  
"Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles." A mop of brown locks almost knocked his teeth out when he reached to turn the tap off, the bouncing and wiggling intensifying the minute small white clouds appeared on the surface of the water.

  
"Jesus, kid slow down. Don't wanna explain to your Aunt that I dropped you on day three, that lady is terrifying when she wants to, she'll have my head on a stick." He dropped some colorful bath toys in the tub to keep the kid occupied.

  
Explaining to May that they had, accidentally, regressed her 16-year-old nephew to a pint-sized toddler wasn't one of his proudest moments. For someone so small she sure as hell packs a punch and knows a lot of colorful language in both English and Italian it seems.  
How were they supposed to know that the stupid rock changed powers when moved to another realm? It didn't come with an instructions manual. (They found that one later in the Asgardian library after some digging buy Thor and Loki).  
The plan was to give it to the kid for his birthday for him to study it, he loves to observe nerdy things like that in his microscope, especially if it came from space.

"But here we are, Kiddo. Not how you planned to spend your birthday weekend right." The former teenager turned toddler was to busy trying to fit his entire hand in his mouth to answer, drooling like a Sankt Bernard with dental issues instead. Gross.

  
Tony began peeling the wet, sticky clothes of the kid, trying and failing to keep the mush from falling off the fabric and on the floor. He wondered if the light yellow shirt was beyond saving, maybe they should stick to darker colors in the future.

  
"At least your table manners improved with age, mini Shrek." Puffy cheeks went even more chipmunk like when the kid flashed him a huge smile and giggled around the cramped fingers in his mouth.

  
"Oony!" Tony quickly redirected the drooly hand in its path to pet his head (he was getting a hang on that) and instead guided the now butt naked, chubby, all-around sticky mess down in the tub.

  
Peter kicked his short legs when they touched the surface and making all kinds of happy squeals and giggles.  
Tony slowly sat down beside the tub, leaning against the side he ran one hand through the bubbles making different patterns while fondly watching the kid zoom a big blue whale around the in the shallow water.  
His knees didn't hurt so much anymore and after chuckling at the kid squirting himself in the face with water, he forgot about them entirely. Who knew Tony Stark would enjoy babysitting? He smiled and ran his fingers through Peter's messy curls, savoring the moment, sadly knowing it was a limited-time experience.

  
"FRIDAY, can you ple-."

  
"Already done, Sir."  
\--------  
"Peter Benjamin Parker get your naked butt over here now!"

  
"Noooo!"

  
Tony had fought supervillains that were easier manageable than the towel cape-wearing menace that was currently dashing through their living room.

  
"I'm Or." He sprinted as fast as his short legs carried him, behind the grey couch and around the glass coffee table with very sharp and hard corners. Tony felt another couple of years escape him when the kid's head almost knocked right into the metal frame. The makeshift towel cape billowed behind him, held in place by Peter's white-knuckled grip while he bolted to the couch once again.

  
Thankfully the potentially dangerous sprint was aborted by the actual Thor swooping the miniature up and flying him around the room for a while, he flew high above the God's head and nervewracking close to the ground shrieking with laughter.

  
"FRIDAY, please order some corner protecting things." Tony's voice did not shake, not at all.

"The corner guards will arrive tomorrow, Boss."

  
"Thank you, FRIDAY." He directed his attention back towards the giggles and dragged a hand across his face, he needed a nap.

  
"You are truly worthy of a cape, young Peter. One made of the finest threads found in the seven realms, worn only by heroes and warriors." The God shifted the small child in his arms, bringing his fingers to the soft belly, wiggling them and making Peter squirm and giggle once more.

  
"But to fight mighty beasts and protect the innocent we must wear clothing. I once slept under the stars in nothing but my birthday suit, I ended up with a rash on my buttocks. Riding towards a battle with a sore behind I would not wish upon my enemies." A giant finger tapped the enthralled, crossed eyed toddler on the nose. "One must always protect your behind."

Now very eager to put clothes on, Peter nodded his head, making the damp curls bounce and fall in his face. Tony stepped forward handing Thor the pile of clothing and a diaper, swept the locks out of the boy's face, and gently scratched his scalp.

  
"Nice to know you don't play favoritism, Kiddo, gonna remember that." Stifling a yawn, Tony brushed a hand through his hair and realized that he could use a shower. When was the last time he took one? Before the shrinking situation?

  
"Do you think you bunch of true heroes can handle not losing Bite-Size over here while a make my self smell a little less like an alley rat?"  
He knew the were capable of watching the kid because this entire experience had been some sort of teamwork from the start. It didn't make it any easier being separated from the kid tho. He was getting attached.

  
"Go shower, Mama Bear. We'll watch your kid, perhaps consider a nap to 'cause those bags under your eyes are dangerously close to touching the floor."

  
Clint walked by Tony pointing one sugar-coated finger in his face, throwing himself on the couch.

  
"If you feed him one bit of candy I'm telling Laura." He smacked the archer across the head while passing the couch. "And he's not my kid."

  
"Yeah, whatever you say." Stuffing his mouth with three large pieces of red gummies Clint flipped Tony of over the back of the couch, chewing loudly with an open mouth.

  
Steve crossed his arms sending the iconic Captain America look of disapproval towards Clint, who now sucked his fingers clean sprawled out over the couch cushions."That's just gross, Barton."

  
"I'll be back in 20 minutes, don't lose him, don't let him out of your sight. He's fast and a magnet for trouble."  
"Make it one or maybe two hours, Tony. A nap will do you good." Steve made a shooing motion with his hands to make Tony move again, the clashing thoughts evident in the mechanics face.

  
"Fine." Tony's shoulders slumped in defeat, maybe a quick shower? How much trouble could someone so small cause during that short amount of time? It's Peter Parker so a fucking tonne, even with superhero babysitters.

  
"Oony go? Where Oony go?" Steve's chin fell to his chest when he heard the small voice from Thor's arms. The slight wobble notifying Steve for the impending tears. They were so close to getting Tony to rest for a while and Steve knew that if tears fell Tony would stay with Peter.

  
"No, down. Pe'er down." Peter squirmed around in Thor's arms so much that Steve feared he would drop him.

  
"Would you like to help me on an adventure, young Peter?" Thor tightened his hold on the struggling boy, careful not to harm him. "I have heard tales about trolls hiding in plain sight, disguised as ordinary things."  
To the surprise of no one the kid stills, his hero-worship of Thor is beyond them. Teary-eyed he stuffed his small fingers in his mouth again glancing between Tony and Thor, sniffling he locked eyes with the God.

  
"Oony come wiw Pe'er and Or?"How in the world the God had the strength to resist those powerful puppy eyes were a mystery to Steve.

  
"Tony is gonna join you guys soon, son. He just needs some rest."

  
"Yes, young one, you need to be well-rested when searching for trolls, they can be very sneaky." Thor gave the toddler a wink and ruffled his hair. "I do believe I saw a rather suspicious lamp earlier today."

  
Steve snorted and tried to mask it as a cough. He glanced over his shoulder at Tony and nodded his head towards the hallway, willing him to leave now that Peter was distracted. Debating with himself for a few more seconds Tony finally caved and walked away, not missing Clint's shout.

  
"And I saw a doormat acting strange yesterday."

  
He did, however, miss Peter's wide-eyed stare and how his fingers slipped from his O-shaped mouth. "Rolls here?"


	2. Table trolls and blanket fussing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony needs a nap, Peter's on a hunt and something broke the arc reactor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!  
> Thanks for the kudos and comments, so happy you guys liked it.  
> I will try to go back and fix some spacing problems that occurred when I copied the story to the sight. Hoping it will be better with this chapter.  
> As usual. Please call me out if there's some terrible grammar problems or other weird or distracting faults, English is not my native language.

Tony didn't sleep. He tried and failed and tried again. Eventually, he stopped and just laid there staring at the white ceiling thinking about Peter and how completely fucked up the situation was. 

Poor kid.  
But according to Bruce, he was a very healthy 2-year-old boy. Maybe a little small for his age but otherwise healthy as one can be. Tony tried to force and beg Bruce to set Peter up for every test available but the man simply refused, stating that there was no need to scare Peter more than necessary when a simple examination assured them everything was alright. They already knew the cause of the de-aging and even the cure. Time, that's the cure. Wait until the spell runs its course and keep Peter happy and safe while they wait. 

Loki had nearly dropped on his ass laughing at Thor when the later told him about their mishap, the stones shifting powers were supposedly common knowledge. For all except the God of Thunder.

Tony groaned and dragged his calloused hands down his face, placing them on his chest, fingers drumming on the arc reactor. The regressing appeared to be both physically and mentally, thank God. A teenager trapped in a toddler's body, that might scar a person. Especially someone who thinks every wrongdoing is their fault, someone like Peter Parker.

The first hours after the regressing Tony panicked and even tried to hide away in his lab. Spending hours and hours on different projects and not allowing his thoughts drift, he was terrible with kids anyway so he kept his distance.  
His teenaged intern was now a baby, how was he supposed to react? 

That ended abruptly when a furious looking Black Widow stomped right through the doors to the lab and showed a bright red, screaming to the point of not breathing, toddler in his arms. 

"He wants you." Then she spun around, almost whipping him in the face with her long red braid, and Tony was left alone with his arms full of mini Peter not knowing how to even hold him properly. He remembered his concern about supporting the kid's neck (that's what you're supposed to do or is that only for babies?), Tony didn't know.  
He grabbed a clean rag from his desk and very gently tried to wipe away the tears and snot mix covering his intern, nearly gagging when the mess left the kid's face in slimy strings or stuck to his fingers.

Between his none existing knowledge about taking care of kids and Tony's daddy issues, he's surprised they managed these days so far. 

"Are you decent?" The soft knocks on the door and Steve's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. What was the time? How long had he been stuck in his head? He shook his head and raised himself on his elbows, head still muddled by lingering anxiety.

"When am I ever?" A thud, probably from Steve's forehead hitting the door, confirmed that the cheekiness didn't go unnoticed.  
"But I'm allowing you entries anyways." Even dead tired he managed to tease the old prude, which was always a fun activity.

Slowly opening the door, Steve peeked at him from the other side. Tony flashed him a paparazzi smile and made a tada- motion with his hands.

"See, decent as the virgin Mary." 

"You don't get any bonus points for having clothes on, Tony." Steve deadpanned and walked up to the foot of the bed. 

"Any points for getting rid of them?" He winked at the other man, he stepped right into that one. Laughing Tony sat up cross-legged on the bed while Steve groaned and simultaneously sat down, burrowing his face in his hands.

"Oh, come on, Captain PG-13, that was hilarious." Clapping Steve on the shoulder, he continued before the Captain had a chance to retort. "Any reason for the bedroom visit?" 

Steve swept a concerned look over his face, noticing the very prominent bags and dark circles.  
"Did you get any sleep, Tony?"

"I'll catch up eventually." Not wanting to deal with a heart to heart today, Tony settled for a change of topic. "Is dinner ready?"

"Tony..." Steve turned to face him but Tony cut him off. 

"Steve, drop it. It's just a bunch of stupid thoughts." Tony watched Steve wring his hands together, clearly bothered by Tony's lack of sleep and unwillingness to talk. None of it was new concerns but it still bothered Steve and now with a child in the household things needed to change. Despite Tony's refusal to admit that he cared for Peter like his own.

But deciding to respect Tony's wish (today), he put his hands down on the grey comforter and pushed himself up.  
"The lasagna is ready and we're waiting for you. Peter is starving after his troll hunt."  
Smiling, Tony felt a pang of affection for his kid (no, the kid).  
"Was it a success?"  
"I'll let him tell you himself." Steve's voice was somewhat lighter when he exited the room.

"You're doing good, Tony."

\-----  
Dinner time was a much less messy affair then snack time and Peters bubbly, high and bright spirit chased away Tony's darkened thoughts.  
He sat at the table listening to Peter's retelling of the hunt, nodding and laughing when it seemed fitting. The truth was he barely understood half of it, but from the gestures, the giggling, the roars, and the many Or's heard, he was sure it was a success.

"An Oony, Oony. E able was a roll, Oony. An, an, an..." Clutching a piece of noodle in his hand, Peter swung his little fist around over the eating tray, neglecting to put any food in his mouth. Once almost swiping his plastic cup and plate right of it and into Rhodey's lap, he had quick reflexes the old man. 

"Okej, slow down a little, Buddy." Tony's voice didn't hold any heat or scolding, Peter was a good kid most of the time. He caught one flying hand and pried the noodle mush from it and wiped it off with a damp rag. Tony is impressed by himself for how quickly he got used to messy and sticky substances, especially those produced by a tiny human. 

Catching fist number two, also containing noodle mush and the spoon which was supposed to be used the other way around, he huffed out a chuckle at Peter's excitement.  
"Bu e able rolls, Oony. Or heard em." 

"I'm sure he did." On the other end of the table, Thor hid his smirk behind a fork full of lasagna.

"I certainly did, young one, and you were a big help on the quest."  
Being praised by his hero made Peter let out another high pitched squeal of delight and almost tumble out of his high chair, hands in the air and kicking his dangling feet under the table. 

"Might need a new hearing aid soon, Stark." Clint rubbed his ear, and to be honest Tony felt like doing the same thing. The kid was loud sometimes. 

Around the table, conversations flowed even after all the food was gone. There were low spoken words of no importance, a peaceful and warm environment were all heroes were able to relax from their usual duties.  
Tony heard bits and pieces here and there, something about shopping and something about a visit, be he was too focused on the rapidly dwindling Peter beside him. When the kid's eyes began to droop and his head slowly tilting forward, Tony decided it was time to call it a quit.

"Gonna go put the little rascal to bed." It was just after 6:00 pm so Tony figured he would tuck Peter in and maybe get back to watch a movie with the others, it was way too early for sleep anyways. 

He wiped the kid down once more with the rag, noticing that the blue Captain America set was surprisingly clean despite the flying noodles. One by one the earth's mightiest heroes (babysitters) said their goodnights to Peter. Natasha and Rhodey each kissed him on top of his head, Clint, Sam, and Thor wawed and called for sweet dreams, and Bruce ruffled his curls with careful hands. 

"Do you need any help?" Wiping his hands on a dishtowel, Steve rounded the kitchen counter and placed one of his big hands on Peter's back, rubbing soothingly. Tony could practically hear the kid purr and melt on his shoulder. 

"No, think he's gonna hit the pillow and be out." Peter was already sleeping in Tony's arms so it would just be a matter of changing him, brush his teeth, and put some pJ's on and done. 

Brushing a hard-sleeping toddler's teeth proved to be a challenge, even more so than an awake one that kept biting the brush, but Tony thought he did an okay job. He didn't want the kid to accidentally swallow some foam or choke on it so it wasn't the best job he'd done.  
Wrangling a boneless toddler into his pajamas was easier, tonight Iron Man himself would keep him safe during his sleep. 

"Oony?" Stopping all his blanket fussing (when did he start fussing around with blankets?) and sitting down beside the kid in bed.  
"Yeah, I'm here, Peter." He moved some curls out of the kid's eyes and melted when Peter snuggled up to his hand, God he was soft nowadays.

"I love ou Oony."

During three seconds Tony experienced a heart attack, a stroke, an arc reactor malfunction, and he also stopped breathing. There was something wrong with his eyesight too.  
He'd told the teenager that he loved him a couple of times, but Peter never said it back to him before. The kid preferred letting Tony know with tight hugs and small gestures instead.  
He believed it had something to do with all the loss he'd experienced in his young life and Tony was okay with that and didn't press the matter.  
So, hearing little Peter say it out loud broke him, and he wished teenaged Peter would feel comfortable enough too say it out loud too someday. Tony could be patient.

"I love you too, Peter. I love you so very much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> The next chapter will be up in time for the weekend. I hope you're taking care of yourself and that quarantine's not kicking your butt and spirit down the gutter.  
> I would really love to hear your thoughts about this story so far.
> 
> Bye!


	3. In a sea of red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter did something bad causing Tony to screw up but uncle Bruce is there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was done and I was happy with it. Then I started to second guess my self and began to edit it some, and then some more, and then I destroyed it. I'm not entirely convinced I'm thrilled about it but I can't stand looking at it more.  
> I hope you're gonna like it!

"Tony, I don't think you should feed him any more cucumbers, he's going to be full before lunch is ready." Bruce moved the big salad bowl out of Tony's reach once more and carefully sidestepped the begging toddler, who'd latched on to the countertop.  
Standing on his tiptoes between Tony and Bruce, Peter tried to peak over the edge on a mission to find some more goodies, now when Tony stopped supply him with any.  
He resembled a baby bird with his open mouth and pleading eyes, and if he felt neglected he pecked them in the thighs and pointed to his mouth. He might be small but his stomach likened a black hole.

"But Brucie, he's giving me the eyes." Tony had a sneaking suspicion that the kid knew about his low resistance against his superpower, but damn it the kid was adorable. Both teenage Peter and toddler Peter batted their eyelashes at him and made their/his brown eyes Bambi-like whenever they/he craved something Tony previously denied them/him. The success rate was nearly a hundred.

"Tony, you're the adult here." Of course, Bruce was right. Bruce was always right, that was his superpower (except for his handy big green party trick).

"Fine." Pushing himself away from the counter, he crouched beside Peter and pried the kid's fingers away from where he struggled hard at climbing the bench. They were all lucky the sticky-fingers and the rest of Spider- man's superpowers didn't stay with the kid. Finding a two-year-old on the ceiling would send Tony to an early grave.

"Pete, why don't you go play with Voff (the white plushie seal Peter was convinced was a dog) and the rest of your gang until lunch is ready?" 

Peter had spent the morning coloring with Steve and after that, he gathered all of his plushies over by the sofa, unbeknownst to anyone why. Toddler logic Tony guessed.  
He had produced a few masterpieces together with Steve, they were currently stuck to the fridge by small Avengers-themed magnets.  
Tony had no idea what the paintings were supposed to resemble, but according to Steve, the red, blue, yellow, and green lines were them. Their little family. Tony had stuck them on the fridge and threatened violence if anyone even considered taking them down.

With one last yearning look at the unreachable treats, the kid eventually set off towards the lounge area.  
"kay, Oony. Pe'er play wiw Voff." Watching the kid wobble over to the couch, Tony reached for his work pad and sat down by the breakfast bar, from there he could keep an eye at the kid while simultaneously get some work done.

"Ask Voff which movie we should watch later." 

"kay." Tony heard him start to chatter with his plushie friends and arrange them in a semicircle.

All of the residents in the Tower had improved on their child-raising skills, but to be honest, they still sucked.  
Thank God for Clint and his experience with kids. Without him, they would be lost and doomed.

They made a tonne of mistakes during this week: not enough napping, too much napping, putting on diapers backward, tripping over the kid, dress him to warm, dress him to cold, placing hot things in his reach, and so many more. It was a wonder the kid was still alive and still in the ownership of all ten fingers.  
Clint showed them some neat tricks that might come in handy, a basic outline of a day, and he also shared some red flags to watch out for.

One of the red flags was silence. "Whenever you can't hear what they are doing, you're in for a hell of a surprise."

That's what pulled Tony from scrolling through his emails.  
The silence.  
There was no longer any chatter coming from the sofa. He saw Peters butt sticking out from behind it and the plushies sat next to him. 

"Pete?" 

Silence.

"Peter, whatcha doing?" 

Silence.

Bruce turned to Tony when hearing his friends insistent calling for the young boy. He strained his neck but wasn't able to spot anything out of the ordinary and confused turned to Tony again right when the other man shot out of his seat.

Tony's pulse had quickened at the none responsive kid, and he was out of his seat in an instant, a confused Bruce at his heels. The pair speed-walked over to the couch and immediately froze.  
Tony never paid much attention to his couch or his lounge floor before, but here he was, staring completely gobsmacked at both. 

In the middle of a sea of crisscrossing red lines, islands of red smudges, and small debris of broken crayons, sat a tiny and guilty-looking Peter Parker.  
One small foot toeing red bits under the carpet and the other gripped by a red-stained hand. 

"What the hell!? Peter, what have you done!?" Knowing not to yell at children and applying it in real life, proved to be harder than Tony imagined. He saw the kid flinch at his raised voice and he knew he ought to have stopped there. Instead, he loomed over the kid and advanced.

"Why, Peter? Why would you do such a bad thing?" 

"Tony! Calm down or leave!"  
Bruce wrenched Tony's arm back, not caring at all about scolding his old friend. His only care sat in front of him, body shaking in fear, lips quivering, and fat tears threatening to fall. Peter still didn' look at them, his eyes glued to his feet.  
To Tony's defense, he did calm down and snapped out of his yelling immediately but Bruce suspected the damage was already done. 

Sending Tony a warning look, he pushed the coffee table aside, sidestepped the crayon pieces on the carpet, and sat opposite Peter. It broke his heart seeing tears silently roll down the kid's face.  
Bruce had no idea how to handle this, but he believed in talking, so talking they would. 

"Peter, can you look at me, please?" He lowered his tone and kept his voice soft, no more yelling.  
Peter only shook his head, causing more tears to fall, the drops staining his jeans.

"I'm not mad, Peter. I'm not going to yell at you." Yes, Bruce hoped Tony felt that one, and according to the full-body twitch from the other man, Bruce's words hit home. 

Tony unfroze when a small whimper escaped the kid, his kid.  
What is wrong with him? Did his dad screw him up so much that he's now yelling at his kid? After promising himself he would be different and be an actual parent, a good parent. 

Catching Bruce's eyes, he mouthed "Sorry", and hoped the other man distinguished his remorse. Bruce gave a curt nod and raised one warning eyebrow to the sniffling Peter. "Don't screw it up."

"Hey, Buddy." Tony would forever remember that stabbing ake in his chest when Peter flinched again at his voice. "Can I sit with you?" 

He held his breath and waited. After a few seconds, Peter moved his hand to his mouth, stuck his fingers in, and nodded.  
Relived, Tony sank to the floor beside him, not caring about the red crayon staining his jeans, and wrapped an arm around Peter's small shoulders. He felt the tremors running through the boy's body and how he tensed when Tony pulled him closer. So he ran his fingers softly through the brown curls to soothe the kid and get him to relax. 

With his other hand, he gently lifted Peter's chin so he'd be able to look him in the eyes.  
"I'm sorry I yelled, Peter. You shouldn't yell at people you lo.. like." Bruce gave him an encouraging nod and Tony fumbled over what to say next, maybe this was a bad idea? Perhaps it's better if Bruce did it. 

As if sensing his hesitation, Bruce nudged him with his foot and inclined his head. 

"I'm not mad, well I'm a little mad, but mostly I want to know why? Why did you paint all over the floor and the sofa?" Tony cringed, he was not good at this. Should he play the disappointed card?

Peter only shook his head.

"You don't know why you painted?" 

Another shook. 

"No', Pe'er." The words were barely comprehendible between his fingers.

"It wasn't you who did it?" 

When Tony felt a small nod against his chest, he shot Bruce a pleading look for help. Tony was so far out of his comfort zone he couldn't even see the barriers anymore. Bruce just nudged his foot again. That traitor. 

"Okay, who painted my couch then?" Not the right thing to ask, right? 

"Voff did'i." The sniffling increased again and Tony would bet the tower on it is due to Peter's bad conscience. The kid, big or small, had a heart of gold.

"Peter, it's not nice to lie and blame others." He begged for Bruce to take over but the man stood up and walked over to the kitchen and left Tony alone with one heavy crying Peter, sitting together in their lounge, surrounded by red.

"Pe'er is a b-bad b-boy." Maybe Tony's heart is failing again, cause the sharp pain in his chest made him tense up. He maneuvered the sobbing kid into his lap and wrapped his arms around him, and when he felt one small hand clutch his shirt he tightened his hold even more. Letting Peter know he was loved, even now. 

"No, no, no, Peter. You're not a bad boy. You did a bad thing, but you will always be a good boy. My good boy, and Bruce's good boy." 

"'m 'orry, Oo-ony." Peter hiccupped and sobbed so hard Tony feared he'd suffocate if he didn't calm down soon.

"I' was pre'y." 

"You wanted to make it pretty?" That explanation was far more believable than one about Peter doing something sinister. 

Another nod and Peter sucked in some snot. That's disgusting.  
"Pe'er likes r-red."

"Okay, but what if we next time we want to make something prettier, we paint pictures to put up? Then we can switch them when we feel like it. One day red and one day blue."

"Pe'er likes blue 'oo." Smiling down at the boy in his arms, Tony agreed. 

"So, no more painting on floors, furniture, or walls?"

"'kay, Oony." 

Tony moved them up on the now red and grey sofa, Peter had one hand gripping Tony's shirt and one hand stuffed in his mouth. The fingersucking might be bad for the kid in the long run but for now, Tony ignored it. Savouring holding his kid, wiping snot and tears away while leisurely swaying back and forth.

"FRIDAY, can you take a photo?" He didn't know why he whispered it and why he didn't want the rest of the team knowing about him snapping photos of little Peter. For now, it was his secret. 

He glanced over the back of the sofa and was rewarded with a thumbs up from Bruce. Turning away he pressed his lips lightly to Peter's head and continued with the swaying since it seemed to help soothe them both. 

"My good boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the kudos and the comments. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Octopuses and bellybuttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter deals with separation anxiety and Tony just wants to get his snuggle buddy back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> A bit late update but now it's here. I had to work a couple of double shifts at work and just came home and crashed into bed.   
> Enjoy!

The days following the disastrous lounge redecoration left Tony shadowed by a tiny, subdued octopus person. Peter clung to Tony wherever he went and demanded to be carried if Tony's arms weren't otherwise occupied.   
"Up, up, up. Oony, up." Was all Tony ever heard and it drove him insane, but he preferred it to the far more heartbreaking: "Pe'er is a bad bo-oy." No matter how much Tony or the others reassured the kid that he was not a bad boy, Peter wouldn't accept it and they continued in their endless loop.

God forbid if another person sought to pick the kid up, the wailing and the tears didn't ease until they caved and transferred him to Tony or until Peter passed out by sheer exhaustion.   
Not even his biggest idol Thor was able to console the heartbroken toddler when separated from Tony, Peter would just press his face in the God's neck and silently and miserably sob to himself. 

Mister Super Dad Clint, wore a deathly pale complexion and looked almost crossed eyed after one particularly bad night when Tony, (due to work and idiotic people), arrived home at dawn, much, much later than planned.   
Peter interpreted Tony's absence as him leaving because Peter was a bad boy and repeatedly told Clint that he could be better, followed every time with Clint's reassuring that he already was. 

Tony reschedule all trips after that night.  
\----  
For now, Tony sat slumped on the sofa with a diaper-clad Peter in his lap. The kid was leaning his back heavily against Tony's chest and Tony had snaked an arm around Peter to keep him from falling off, his large hand resting on the small protruding belly, gently drumming his fingers.

"No, Oony. So-op. I 'ickles." Peter grabbed Tony's fingers with both his hands and wrenched them away from his naked stomach as hard as he mustered, which wasn't very hard.

"So your tummy is ticklish?" Tony smirked.

"Nooo."

"Oh, are you sure?" Tony wiggled his fingers again, making Peter squeak and slapping his hand.

"Noo."

"Yeah, I think you're right. Maybe I should try here then?" Raising his other hand to Peter's armpit, he wagged his fingers in the air threateningly. 

With a shriek, Peter rolled off his lap and landed beside him on the sofa, he hurriedly crawled to the edge, slid to the floor, and ran over to take cover with Natasha. 

"Nassa, Oony is mean o Pe'er." He wheezed to Natasha, winded after his swift getaway stunt. 

Natasha scooped him up from the floor and perched him on the armrest beside her. "Yes, and what do we do when someone is mean to you?"   
She gave the boy a sheepish smile and Tony an evil glance before the pair, in unison, stuck their tounges out to Tony. Peter took the opportunity to blow a very wet raspberry, saliva flying everywhere.

Tony placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be extremely hurt and only half-jokingly wiping his face. Peter got some distance with that spit. 

"What's happening here?" Placing two bowls of popcorn on the table, Steve turned to Peter and Natasha.

"Ony's mean o Pe'er. He ickles my belly." Now standing balancing on the armrest, holding on to the back of the armchair, and gripping Natasha's raised hand, Peter scrunched his face together and fixed Tony with a betrayed look. 

"I see, and Peter's tummy doesn't like being tickled?" Steve could barely keep a straight face, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"No, i don." He stomped his foot, lurched alarmingly, but Natasha's grip kept him steady and upright. 

Tony snorted. "Okay, I yield, no more tickling poor Peter's belly." He laughed out loud at the suspicious squint the toddler sent him.   
"Pinky swear and cross my heart, no more tickling." He made the cross sign over his heart and opened his arms. "Can I get my best bud back?"

Still squinting, Peter nodded his head and turned his head to find a way down.

"Want a lift?" The toddler raised his head to Steve, then let it drift towards the ground and then over to Natasha. 

"Pe'er don ge down."

"Steve will help you fly back to Tony." Tony saw her genuine smile toward the kid, he'd noticed she did smile more often nowadays. 

"Fly?" Peter looked confused.

"Yep, Captain Ice Crash will help you fly over here. With the right attitude, you can accomplish anything." Shaking his head at Tony's teasing, Steve hoisted Peter up, big hands wrapping around the kid's ribcage and flew him, face down, around the room. The kid stuck his arms out to the side and droned like a miniature airplane, breaking occasionally for fits of laughter.

Tony grinned at the two, roaming the room. "FRIDAY, you know what to do."

"Yes, Boss." 

"Brrrr, brrr, wrrrmmm, brrr." 

Tony didn't notice Natasha's smirk before a very tiny toddler airplane got dumped upsidedown in his lap. Barely avoiding a foot to the face, Tony managed to turn the kid right way up when the rest of the team entered.

"Movie night here I come, baby." Sam crashed-landed on the sofa, causing Tony and Peter to bob in their seat. 

The team spread out on the lounges and the floor, passing snacks and drinks between them and getting cozy, ready to start their toddler appropriate movie.   
Thor and Clint made a nest on the floor, fighting over the best popcorn placement, Rhodey and Bruce sat on the sofa next to a curled up Natasha, Sam next to Tony and Peter, and Steve and soon Bucky on the sofa.

Peter snatched Bucky's metal arm when he passed. "S'eve made me fly. S'eve is so song." The sincerity in the kid's face and voice touched them all a little, but more so the words prompted howling laughter and ridiculing remarks towards Captain Strong. 

"Oh the strong and brave Captain, please help a damsel in distress."

"Embrace me with your big arms and keep me safe."

"Can you lift a horse, Captain Rogers?"

"Captain, my Captain, catch me I feel faint." Bucky threw his hand up to his forehead, palm out, and dramatically fell backward and landed across Steve's thighs.

"Jesus."

"Oumph." Bucky caught himself before his nose made contact with the floor, Steve had pushed him off his lap as soon as he crashed down. 

"Not very gentlemanlike." Bucky sat up, rubbing his elbow. 

"Oh, shut up." A faint blush dusted Steve's face and traveled down his neck. 

"LANGUAGE." Clint threw some popcorn at Steve, making Peter clap his hands and trying to replicate the toss. Tony ended that quickly by snatching the popcorns away and stuffing them in his mouth.   
When did he become comfortable eating food from other people's hands?

After a few more minutes of merriment, they finally settled down to watch the film. Peter scooted back and burrowed in Tony's chest, the man curled one arm around the toddler and gently copied their previous position. 

Peter tensed. "No ickles."

"Promise, no tickles." Tony pressed his nose in the mop of hair, rubbing one hand along a chubby arm. "You cold?" 

"No."

The kid was only wearing a diaper and even if FRIDAY kept the temperature in the tower to a pleasant degree, Peter might get chilly.   
At the same moment, a white fluffy blanket was draped across their legs, a courtesy from Sam. Tony gave the man a thankful nod and a rare smile. 

\----

"Wha is 'is?" 

40 minutes into the movie and Peter had begun to fiddle with Tony's fingers again. 

"What?" Tony looked down, not understanding what the kid meant.

"'is. Wha is 'is?" Peter poked a finger in his bellybutton, twisting it around. 

"That's your bellybutton." Tony simply stated, figuring the kid would accept that. 

"Why?" 

"Why, why?" Frowning, Tony watched the kid poking and prodding at his bellybutton. 

"Whys 'ere?" Peter shifted in his lap and lifted the hem of Tony's shirt. "Oony go' one oo." When he tried to prod at Tony's stomach too, Tony gently grasped his hand and contained them in his own. 

"Yes, everybody has one."

"Sam oo?" The toddler watched Sam with eager eyes, almost demanding him to lift his sweater. 

"Yep, bugboy, I got one too." 

"Why?" Peter's expression was of confusion and curiosity and in Tony's one could glimpse dread. He knew where this was heading.

"It's where babies get their food from when they're in the belly.". Tony begged to some God that Peter felt satisfied with that answer. Of course, he wasn't, it's never enough questions when you're dealing with Peter Parker. 

"Pe'er was in Oony's belly?" Now the rest of the team seemed to have caught up on the conversation and all wore a similar look. 

"No, you..." Tony froze, his brain blanked out. He felt panic beginning to rise and looked for aid. 

"No, buddy, you were in your mommy's belly." A tense silence followed Sam's words, all waiting for Peter's reaction. Tony hugged him closer and stroke the kid's hand with one of his thumbs.

"Where's Pe'er's mommy now?" There it was, Tony was internally freaking the fuck out. How do you explain to a two-year-old that his mother was dead? 

"Your mama is away on a trip for a while, she'll be back later." Tony flicked his eyes up to meet Sam's darker ones, the other man just gave him an assertive look and shook his head. Tony held his breath and bit his cheek. Sam knew what he was doing, right?

"Your mama loves you very much, Peter. She just had to go away for a moment, that's all." Sam maintained eye contact with the boy across the sofa. He was almost as nervous as Tony but kept his appearance light and reassuring for Peter. 

The kid played with Tony's hands again, eyes wandering up to meet Sam's or Tony's once in a while. He began chewing his lip, worrying it between his teeth and turning it red. Tony gently pulled the bottom lip from the kid's bite and stroked his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Kid?" Tony found his voice again, uneven and faint. 

"Mommy come back?" 

Swallowing the big lump in his throat, Tony nodded. "Yes, Pete, she'll come back later." He is lying to his kid. To protect him, but still lying. 

"Oony s'ay wiw Pe'er?" 

"Yeah, I'll never leave you, Buddy." He probably shouldn't promise that but screw it, he's got a kid to comfort. 

Still seeming deep in thought Peter sat silent for a few seconds and just when Tony was about to inquire the kid again Peter sighed and turned. Placing both of Tony's hands on his belly, Peter happily snuggled closer and faced the TV again. "kay." 

The team let out a collective breath. Tony imagined they dodged a bullet this time. It was true though, he would never, willingly, leave his kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it never wanted to end. I really need to work on shortening and getting to the point.  
> As always shout at me if my grammar or spelling sucks or if something else doesn't make any sense. I don't have anyone to beta it so I wing it.
> 
> So happy for the kudos and comments and it makes me smile every time I see one new. 
> 
> Take care of yourself!


	5. Be aware of the sharks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter are stranded (kinda), and Peter gets another present.

As corny as it is, Tony didn't think he could ever get used to watching Peter sleep.   
Not in a creepy way, but in a parental way. When the kid slept, he slept like the dead, and no noise, movement, or other disturbance rose him. Not, so unlike the teenage version.   
Tony knew teenaged Peter's dreams often turned to nightmares. He also knew the kid adamantly refused to talk to him about them, even when the bags under his eyes turned black. All Tony could do was to offer comfort and hugs, and tell him everything will be fine.   
More then once, he felt like a hypocrite trying to get the kid to talk, when Tony, himself, held a gold medal in burying things to avoid talking.  
It was another thing to add to the long list of things he needed to work out, a steady expanding list.

Now watching the little bump under the Spider-man cover, he let those long-ago buried feelings rise to the surface. He never wanted a child. He never dared to want a child, not with his upbringing.   
The older he became, the more he realized how screwed up he was. Panicking at the thought of having someone to care for, someone to put in front of himself no matter what, and someone so close he could hurt them. Accidental or not, if something happened to this boy, to his boy, it was all on Tony.  
Yet here he was, exploring parental feelings and not freaking out.   
He called that progress.

"Time to wake up, Buddy." He sat down next to the lump and gently shook it, generating a soft: "No." Tony huffed out a snort and continued his lump rustling.  
'"Come on, Buddy, Thor has a surprise for you."

"Or?" One puffy eye peeked out from under the cover. "Or has a supise for Pe'er?" 

"Yep." He popped the P, raised an eyebrow, and tilted his head to the kid. This battle was already won, between Thor and a surprise, the kid stood no chance. 

"Wha'?" Two brown, wide eyes and a nose was now visible under the red and blue cover. 

"Not gonna tell," Tony felt the little cocoon waggel, Peter probably kicking his feet. His curiosity couldn't stand surprises, not at age 15 nor age 2.

Grabbing the corner of the cover, Tony, ever so slowly, dragged it off the kid, who in turn curled up to an even more diminutive, now annoying looking ball.   
Stark men might be of iron, but according to the warm sappy feeling in Tony's chest, the kid had the power of melting it.

"Wanna go and check it out?" He made the mattress bob up and down, the little Peter-ball bobbing along with it. He gave himself a mental high five when he earned some giggles, and so, of course, he did it again. 

"Oh, no, the seas are stormy today, mate, we have to abandon the ship." Tony bounced some more, bedsprings squeaking, but he couldn't care less because Peter was now full out laughing.   
To say that Tony felt proud was an understatement. Something inside him (his heart?) wanted more, more laughter, more smiles, more hugs. It craved it like a drug.   
Natasha once told him that he was touched-starved, he gave her a quizzical look and waved her off. Touched-starved, pfft, people touched him. Now, glancing at the kid, he might reconsider her words. It could have something to do with feelings.

"More, more." The kid sat crossed-legged on the bed now, bouncing and bobbing so wildly he toppled over a few times, straining his body to keep his balance and grasping at the sheets. Hair flicking wildly across his red face, mouth hanging open amid giggles and gasps.  
While trying to crawl over to Tony, he almost tumbled over the edge. Luckily Tony caught him right in time before he took a nosedive to the floor.

"Whoa, man overboard. Look out for the sharks." Tony, dramatically, scooped the kid up and rose from the bed, sweeping a few stray curls out Peter's face. He took a couple of cartoonishly exaggerated steps away from the bed.

"No, 'arks, Oony." He was awake now.

"You don't see them?" Tony whispered, giving the kid a bewildered side glance. "They're surrounding us, there in the corner. Look."  
Tony pointed to the other side of the room where Peter's cluttered desk stood.  
"Look close." He shielded his eyes with his right hand, leaned forward, and pretended to be on the lookout. Peter copied his movement and twisted and turned, straining his neck to detect any predators. A clumsy little hand shielded his eyes too. 

"'ark! Under 'e bed, Oony, hurry." He jolted in Tony's grip and threw his arm out, pointing to the abandoned bed, trembling with excitement. There was no sleepiness left anymore.

Tony quickly turned his head to the bed, and back to Peter in his arm, he gulped, this was an award-winning performance if he could say so. 

"By Kracken, you're right." He pulled the kid closer to his chest.  
"Tuck your feet up, Captain, prepare for full blast ahead. We need to get out of these infested waters."   
The kid gasped and hurriedly tucked his feet up, and they were off. Sprinting out the door and down the hall, Tony didn't stop until they were perched in one of the high barstools by the breakfast bar. 

Both panting, Tony from running, and Peter from laughing, they received some curious glances. Tony didn't care, let them judge. 

"Are we under attack?" Bucky frowned at them over his coffeecup. From the state of his hair, he just rolled out of bed too. 

"Yes, 'arks, 'ucky. In my room." Crawling out of Tony's lap and sitting down in the middle of the bar, Peter described to everyone how big the sharks were (both his arms out), how many (all ten fingers), and how he nearly lost his toes.   
Natasha swiftly tucked her knees up to her chest and placed her feet on the stool when Peter revealed the toe-eating thing, not wanting to lose any toes either. The kid, sending her a confirmative nod.

"Wow, it sounds like we need to check under your bed tonight." Not trying to conceal his smile at all, Sam reached forward and fixed Peter's green Hulk sweater, where it rode up to reveal his belly. Oddly familiar Tony thought. The kid made them all sappy, overprotecting, and doting parents.

Huffing and rolling his eyes, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Peter answered, "No, 'ey sleep 'en." 

"Try to keep up, Sam, everybody knows that." Clint rolled his eyes. Steve, nodding along, lips pursed and eyebrows slightly raised.

"A well-known fact, I believe." 

"Even known in several of the seven realms. Sleeping-quarter sharks do not eat during the night." Thor joined them, he reached over and tweaked Peter's toes. "Nomnomnom." 

Peter squeaked and kicked his feet. He stretched his arms out and grabbed his toes, bringing them back to his stomach. Tony couldn't do that contortion even under torture.

"Nuhu, I saved those toes, they're mine to keep." Reaching out and grabbing the kid's chubby legs, Tony pulled Peter back to him and placed him in his lap again. He possessively held the kid's bare feet in his hands, gently rubbing them with his thumbs.

"If I'm not mistaken, Blondie wanted to show you something." At that, Peter perked up again.

"he supise." Peter's eyes trailed the God's movement and studied the package placed opposite him and Tony. He furrowed his brow at the brown box and gave Thor a puzzled look.

"Wha' is i'?" 

"Open it, and you will see." Thor nodded, giving Peter permission to attack the gift, and attack it he did. If Tony could describe Peter's package opening style, with one word, it would be overeager.   
After given permission, he catapulted himself toward the box, and excitedly began to rip the paper off.   
A small, frustrated whine escaped him when he couldn't get past the decorative golden ribbons. 

"Oony, help." Peter squirmed in Tony's lap, trying to twist around and give him the box.

"Put it back, Kiddo. Can anyone get us a pair of scissors?" He nodded toward the drawers behind them, but before anyone had a chance to reach them, Bucky reached forward with his metal arm and snapped the ribbons as if they were boiled spaghetti.

"Show off," Tony muttered, but he couldn't glare too long before Peter was back in ripping business again. 

Finally, the box was open, and Peter used the table to heave himself into a standing position in Tony's lap. The man grimaced when the kid's heels dug into his thighs, sliding over the muscles when Peter tried to adjust his balance. Tony guessed there would be bruising. 

He gripped the kid and leaned forward, examining the content in the box, as was everybody else around the bar. Yes, they were heroes, God's and spies, but who wasn't excited when gifted a present?   
Psychopath's concluded, Tony.

"Wha' is i'?" Peter clutched something red in his hands and tried to pick it up. His arms proved to be too short, so Thor stepped around Clint and Natasha to help out. Tony's hand's too busy keeping the kid upright. 

Thor turned the fabric over, trying to locate the right side up.  
"There we go," he exclaimed and held it out for all to see.

In his giant hand's hang a tiny dark red cape, with even smaller golden trimmings along the collar. On closer inspection, the trimmings were delicate spun spiderwebs, and the golden clasp was a spider with eight thin legs and black, glistening eyes.   
The cape itself was in a familiar red tone, an Iron man red tone. There was a pattern along the hem, woven in with similar colors, making it almost invisible. 

"Is that my shield?" One, equally large hand, softly seized a corner of the cape, and Steve leaned closer, his voice held something supple. 

"And the bullseye is for me, I guess? Cause I never miss." Clint bragged before being shoved aside by Natasha. 

One by one, they all found their symbol along the hem, proudly boasting about it to whoever was closer. For people who had celebrity status all over the world, they seemed peculiarly stoked to be on a child's cape.

Tony stared at the round arc reactor mark where it sat next to the Avengers logo. Steve's shield on the other side and Natasha's spider hours glass on the other.   
Somehow, Thor had manege to give Peter a symbol of their family. Something to keep and remember for years to come. 

"This, young Peter, is your cape. Woven by the most skilled seamstress in Aasgard, out of threads only meant for royal families." Thor placed the small cape over the boy's shoulders and fastened the clasp. Tony smoothed it down and watched it billow out just above Peter's feet. 

"A heroes cape will protect you when all other hope is lost. It will provide shelter from the elements, shield you from danger, and hide you from searching eyes." 

Peter's mouth hung open. Tony wasn't sure if the boy understood all Thor said, but it sure as hell looked like it. 

Something stabbed him in the chest, something dark and unappealing pushed the former warmth away and filled him with doubt.   
In one swoop, Thor had provided Peter, his protege, with something Tony still hasn't completed yet. He forcefully swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. 

"As you grow, the cape will grow with you. To keep you safe until the very end." 

The Avengers around the table were stunned, mouths wide open, staring at the little boy. A boy who received a gift from a God.

Tony didn't listen to them anymore. He kept his focus on his grip around Peter's waist, desperately avoiding to clench too hard.   
Failure.   
Tony failed to protect the one person that mattered the most. He failed so much that Thor had to step in and do what Tony couldn't.   
It was a stupid fantasy thinking he could care for Peter, that he would be enough. All suits and gadgets could never be enough, not when racing against Gods.   
How could he been so stupid, he knew what was out there, why hadn't he asked for more qualified help.   
His egocentrism might cause Peter's death.

As if Thor felt Tony's spiraling emotions, he locked eye with him and gestured to the back of his neck, lifting the collar. It took a few seconds before Tony's dark riddled mind caught up with the God. 

He forced some air down his constricted lungs. Damn it. He was not about to have a panic attack right at his breakfast bar. Lifting his head, he swept his eyes around his friends. No one seemed to notice his brief panic. Natasha gave him a small nod and a raised one corner of her mouth, of course, she noticed.

Tony raised a hand to the nape of Peter's neck. Small tremours caused him to fumble, and his fingers brushed against Peter's ear, making the boy giggle.   
What the hell is wrong with him, pull it together, Stark.   
With another breath to fight down the seeping darkness, he folded the collar down and found some writings. Not in the discreetly red thread as the symbols, but in the same bold threads as the trimmings. 

For an entirely different reason, Tony forced swallowed again. 

"I consider Peter part of my family, just as all of you are family." Thor met Tony's eyes again, eyes filled with so much sincerity and openness Tony had trouble keeping eye contact. His instincts telling him to break it.

"I know all of us are doing and will do everything to keep this family safe. Everything."

If the God's words were as intense to the rest of them, Tony couldn't tell. Of course, Thor only wanted to keep Peter safe, and so was all of their odd little family. 

He stared back down at the swirling embroideries, fighting against tears and shame. 

"Look, Oony. It's pre'y." Peter held one corner of the cloak up and pointed to the small golden spider at his throat. 

"Yeah, it is, Pete." Tony pulled the kid into a hug and felt his chest fill with warmth and glanced at writings in the collar again.

"Peter, son of Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys!   
> I'm back! So sorry for keeping you hanging, my schedule at work changed and my writing hours disappeared. Hopefully know I'll be back in a creative space.
> 
> Thanks all for reading. As always: read, kudos and comment.
> 
> Love!


	6. In to nothingness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Peter cuddle (not) on the sofa before being separated once more. Peter spends the day with his uncles and aunt having a blast. Is it Peter or Tony who suffers most from separation anxiety?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start I'll ask you to read the newly updated warning tags, this one got away from me a bit. 
> 
> I'm sorry!

"Does he climb up to high?" Tony turned the page, Peter tracking his every moment where he sat leaning against his chest, book perched in their lap. "Or jump on his bed?" Small giggles erupted from the kid, and he smacked his hand down on the page and kicked his feet out. 

Peter squished a chubby finger down on the page, "Oony an Pe'er." 

With catlike reflexes, Tony caught the sippy cup before it smacked down on the page.   
They didn't need to test that again, this was his comfiest pair of sweatpants, and he didn't have the energy to change. Again.   
He and Peter had limited time to spend together today, and Tony did not want to waste it.

"Did you and I jump on the bed?" He murmured in Peter's hair and steered the cup back to the kid's mouth. There was still plenty of juice left, and according to FRIDAY, Peter was lightly dehydrated.   
Yes, he made FRIDAY monitor the kid's every vital, for his protection only. Not because he was a mother-hen, how many times Rhodey said so or made chicken noises when he entered a room. He just had some precautionary measures, that's all. 

"Mmhh. 'en Pe'er fell." Peter tipped forward in his lap, mimicking his nosedive, the sippy cup swaying dangerously in his hand. "Bu' Oony caugh me." He threw himself back into Tony's chest, forcing a huff of breath to escape the man, and pointing back to the book.

"Dino have 'one ca'hing him?" Soft brown curls tickled Tony's chin, rasping in his beard, and warm breaths puffed against his neck when the kid tilted his head up to peer at him. 

"Mabey Dino's friend is hiding under the bed? Ready to catch him if he needs to. That's what good friends do, be there for each other."  
Burrowing his chin, lips, and nose further down in the messy mop of hair, he nodded softly to himself, as he was contemplating something incredibly important.   
Nobody needed to know that he took the opportunity to smell the kid. Did all kids smell this amazing? Tony had no idea. He'd never been close enough or interested enough to care before, but now, this new part of him wanted to shove Peter in everyone's face and demand them to sniff.   
Okay, that could come across as a bit crazy, he'd admit that, but the kid smelled incredible.  
So he took one more hit of toddler-smell, turned the page, and continued to read.

"Does he race on his bike..."

Tony and Peter had been sitting on the sofa for most of the morning, reading books and relaxing. Not cuddling, Tony Stark didn't do cuddling. Screw you, Rhodey.  
It's been a lazy moment, and Tony hated that he needed to leave the kid soon. Not, leaving him in the sense of traveling away, but he had to go down to the lab and finish off some projects and after, lock himself in his office and suffer through so many meetings. 

Pepper was a trooper. She's the only reason Tony managed to get some time off to spend with Peter, but even someone as amazing as Pepper couldn't freeze time entirely.  
Mails kept coming, meetings needed to attend, projects had to develop, and the show must go on. That's what people told him anyways, Tony himself was perfectly fine right where he was.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint were on babysitting duties. All briefed to the teeth about everything concerning Peter, including his vitals this morning. Tony had a sneaking suspicion he earned some eye-rolls from Clint, smirks from Natasha, and an exasperated sigh from Steve. He did hear Rhodey's chicken-cackle when his best friend left.  
He ignored them all and continued to pack Peter's little red and yellow Iron man bag full of his favorite toys.   
Yes, he knew Peter would still be in the building, and on the same floor as always, it was only precautions.   
He stuffed Voff between the shoulder straps too.

But for now, they had 20 minutes left. So the pair sat there, not cuddling and reading.   
\------  
"Tony?" Pepper's soft voice startled him. He and Peter had just reached the end of the book and was roaring along with the dinosaur. Tipping his head back, he saw her standing in the lounge entrance, impeccably dressed in a light blue dress, creme heels, and her hair in a low ponytail.   
Beautiful as always, even upsidedown. 

"Already time?" Tony heard the whine in his voice but chose to ignore it, and sunk further down in the cushions.   
Peter, on the other hand, sprung up and nearly crushed Tony's private parts in his excited jumping. 

"Pepper, Pepper, Pepper." 

"Yes. The sooner we get started, the faster you'll get back." She ruffled Peter's hair, causing another fit of jumping, Tony almost jack-knifing forward.

"I'm a 'inosau," Peter exclaimed and let out a few more roars. 

"Jesus, kid, watch the goodies." He stood up, snagged Peter, and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman's carriage. The kid squealed and grabbed the back of Tony's shirt, but continued with his roaring.

"Tony, be careful." Pepper's voice rose and held a nervous tang, and her heels clicked rapidly against the floor when she stepped after them. 

"Special delivery to one, Miss Natasha Romanoff." Tony made his voice nasal and shrill, imitating an annoyed delivery-man. "Miss Romanoff, you need to check this out in person, I believe it's alive."   
He spun slowly on the spot, petting Peter's puffy diaper butt. 

Natasha rounded the corner just as Tony reached it. Her faced blank of emotions, only a small frown, and a glint in her eyes disclosed her amusement. 

"Where do I sign?" Pushing her sleaves up, she put her hands on her hips and gave a sharp nod. Red locks of hair falling over her shoulders.

"Right here, Miss," Tony pointed to Peter's left foot, voice still shrill and nasal.   
Gently grabbing the blue sock-clad foot, Natasha dragged one black nail across the sole, the kid squirming and flailing so much Tony had to fight to keep him steady.

"No. Nonononono. Oony, help." 

He broke character and chuckled at his distressed kid, now beetroot red in his face, and decided to save him by sliding him down in his arms. Peter was winded, and tears of laughter flooding his eyes.

"Okay, okay, no more." He swept some hair out of the kid's face. It was getting long. Was he supposed to cut his hair? How often did you do that? He had to check with FRIDAY later. 

"It's time for you to go to Auntie Natasha." Tony sensed the glare from the red-head more than saw it. "Remember, squirt, you'll play with Nat and Steve today while I do some super boring stuff." 

Peter looked skeptical and glanced between Tony, Natasha, and Pepper. His fingers tugged at his bottom lip.   
Crap, they talked about this yesterday, and Peter seemed to accept it then. 

"I need your help with the cookies, Bug." At the word cookies, Peter's head spun around so fast, Natasha had to smile. 

"Cookies?" He mumbled around his fingers.

"Yes, but they are special ones, and I can't bake them alone." She extended her arms in an invitation. "You wanna help me?"

Peter looked to Tony, and then to Natasha, and then back to Tony. One small hand seized Tony's shirt to prevent him from leaving.

"I would have chosen the cookies." Tony stage whispered to the kid, blinking at him with one eye. "Better than dusty, boring old men and meetings that make your ears fall off." At that, he winked at Pepper, who rolled her eyes.   
Peter's spit covered hand wandered to his ear, checking if it was still attached.

"'Can we ea' cookies oo? Pe'er's 'ummy wans cookies," he said, nodding his head and pursing his lips, showing Tony how essential that fact was.  
"Voff need cookies o." The kid searched the room for his fluffy friend, Natasha freed the plushie from the straps and gave him to Peter.

"Why would we bake them otherwise?" She stole Peter from Tony's arms and began to walk away, hand waving over her shoulder. 

"Bye, Buddy, see you soon." Tony waved to his kid, Peter opening and closing his fist in his version of a wave goodbye, hugging Voff to his chest.  
"Save me a cookie," he called to the retreating pair. 

That went smoothly. That will count as a win. No tears, no snot. Win. 

He turned to walk to the elevator and abruptly stopped face to face with a smirking Pepper. He forgot she was there.

"What?" He sounded like a crotchety old grump, but she looked much too smug. 

"Nothing," Pepper smirked again, and with that, she turned on her heels and entered the lift. 

He stalked after her, flinging his arms in the air. "What?"   
\-------  
Natasha's experience with kids was limited. Clint dragging her, kicking and screaming, to the farm that first time to meet Laura and their first kid, terrified her. Not that she'll admit it to anyone, but she didn't sleep the night before they left.  
She didn't know how to handle kids. All she knew about them was that they were simple targets and easy to manipulate. Children were weak, fragile, and not provided with correct training, useless. 

Eventually, she let her guard down around Cooper, and she figured out how to deal with someone so small. It wasn't like she had any choice, Cooper decided she was the most hilarious and most suitable bed in the house and never left her side.  
Communications were ruff at the start, the kid couldn't follow simple commands, and no matter how often she told him no, he always ended up in harmful or dangerous situations. It frustrated her to no end.  
She figured some of it had to do with the fact that Clint was the father. With genes like that, the boy is lucky to be alive. 

"Chocolate cookies sound good?" She peered at the kid sitting on the floor below her, eating away at his shirt collar. Brown eyes glanced up to meet hers, and then he nodded so enthusiastically he almost tipped over. 

"Alright, ingredients..." She rummaged through the pantry and the cupboards, never taking her attention away from Peter, who still chewed at the collar. That's not good, right? Maybe he was hungry?   
Reaching for ingredient after ingredient and placing them at the counter, she finished by fishing out a banana. 

"You want a snack, Bug?" Dangling the fruit in front of him, she got him to spit the collar out and stand up. One sock lay beside him on the floor. When did he do that?

"Nana, nana." She had to quickly grip the waistband of her grey pants to prevent the kid from pulling them down in his eagerness to get to the delicious snack. If he retained his stickiness, she guessed he'd crawl right up and grabbed it on his own.   
Instead, she picked him up and plopped him on the countertop. Natasha didn't have the energy to cut the fruit and use utensils, so she just broke off small bitesize pieces and fed them to him. It was messy, but she decided Clint could clean. 

"FRIDAY, is Steve on his way?" She extended another piece to Peter, who quickly snatched it and stuffed it in his already full mouth. Loud open-mouth chewing and smacking were all she heard, making the hairs on her arms stand up.  
For some time, she attempted to practice proper dining manners with the kid, it had not yielded any noticeable result yet, and her efforts seemed to lessen the more time they spent together.   
The constant need for neatness and order slowly pushed aside, but not gone. Disarrangement still made her nerves feel brittle and disturbed.

"Mr. Rogers is currently in the elevator on his way up, estimated arrival two minutes. Mr. Barton accompanies him." 

"Thank you, FRIDAY." 

"Your welcome, Miss Romanoff." 

Peter finished all of his banana and was licking his palms and fingers clean when Steve and Clint stepped into the kitchen.  
Ten seconds earlier, Natasha had had to stop him from licking the marble stone, so the fingers and hands were an acceptable compromise.   
The boy opened and closed his right fist in that weird wave thing again and thumped his heels against the countertop. Can't he wave? Natasha added teaching the kid to greet to her list. Children knew so little. 

"Hey, Nat." Steve place a quick kiss on her cheek and turned to Peter, who was now frowning down at his sticky hands, trying to wipe them at his soft jeans but only catching lint balls.

"Hello, Pete, did you have a snack?" Vigorously nodding was the only response he got before Clint reached over and ruffled the kid's hair, sending curls flying.

"Man, you're sticky. Can use you as a flytrap, catch enough to feed both of your spider-butts." He gestured between Natasha and Peter.

Natasha threw the banana peel and hit him square in the face. On impact, it made a splat noise and leisurely slid down the ridge of his nose, leaving a slimy trail in its wake. Clint made a disgusted noise and ripped the peel of his face, threw it towards the sink, and missed, sending the yellow missile to the floor with a final splat.

"You can clean that and the kid, then cookies." She shooed Clint away to get the wet wipes and gently dragged Peter to the counter edge by pulling the cuffs of his pant legs, realizing too late that he was sitting in some banana mush and therefore leaving a pale yellow skidmark.   
At Steve's, "Oh, God," she grimaced, shrugged, and mouthed, "Sorry."

"Cookies..." Peter repeated the word several times during his clean up, like a reminder to all not to forget their mission.   
He only bit the rag three times, crawled away two times, and threw the wipe away once. Clint had to grapple him into an elaborate wrestle grip to get new pants back on, but other than that, it all went smoothly.

"The brat is clean, can we start now?" Clapping his hands together and rubbing them like a villain from an old movie, Clint fixed the two other adults with a begging look. Peter copied him and won on the cuteness scale, Natasha thought and watched the kid working the puppy eyes on Steve and clumsily rubbing his plump hands together.   
Steve shook his head disapprovingly at Clint and set to gather bowls and measuring cups on the newly dried counter.

"Don't call him Brat, Clint," he said in a hushed voice.

"Whatever, I'm licking the bowl."

The whole baking experience went quite well. All three adults knew the recipe by heart, on occasional sleepless nights or nervous waiting days you could find a variety of the Avengers milling around the kitchen, Steve and Sam were the worst of them all. Their destressing baking kept the freezer filled with goodies, so the rest of the team didn't complain too much.  
Waking up to the smell of freshly baked cinnamon buns wasn't the worst.

Steve and Natasha guided Peter and kept an eye on him, while Clint sat next to them at the bar, dangling his legs like a child and polishing off a used bowl.   
Peter was gnawing on the red spatula, smearing batter all over his face, but they let him be, baking was supposed to be messy, according to Steve.   
An egg accidentally fell to the floor, Peter upended a cup of flour down his front, and Clint left one dusty palmprint on Steve's left buttock. Other than that, the cookies turned up great.  
\------  
Tony was right. He knew he would be because he always was. The day turned out to be just as brain-meltingly tedious as anticipated. For Pepper's sake, he tried to keep his attention up, or he attempted to not look at the security footage showing Peter and the gang, too obvious.   
The boy appeared even smaller like that, curled up against Steve's side, sucking on his fingers, and hugging Voff to his chest. Tony could see Cap's fingers kneading the boy's scalp while they watched Little Mermaid on the big screen.   
Tony saw Peter's head droop slightly, an indication that he would fall asleep within minutes. He didn't even try to hide his goofy smile, wondering if the kid would be awake when this snooze fest was over.

After the seventh nudge and third kick to Tony's shin and a million imploring glances, she gave up, but not in any way that granted Tony the win.   
No, Pepper Potts is an incredible and smart businesswoman, and by working alongside Tony Stark for years, she picked up one or two ways of cheating the system. 

"FRIDAY, initiate protocol 42786," spinning slightly in her chair, she watched Tony's smiling face go through stages of confusion, disappointment, anger, and realization.   
She didn't want to force him, she liked seeing him this happy and Peter was good for him, but they needed to deal with all this before it piled up too much. 

"What did you do?" He stared down at his dead screen, previously showing the movie watchers. "FRIDAY, get the feed online again."

"I'm sorry, Boss, I do not have the authority to do so." Is it possible for the AI to sound smug? Did he code her that way? 

"Yes, you can, cause I'm the Boss, and I have the authority to what I want." For extra clarity, he pointed to the ceiling. "That means I'm in charge, and that also means I can donate you to the scrapyard. Now, get me online." He tapped the phone with a finger, with long nails, it would have made a satisfying clicking.

"She's right, Tony." He twisted around in his chair, mouth open. "Remember, you gave me the authority and access to install protocols after the "Tony is a big baby" spring meetings debacle."  
Smoothing out invisible wrinkles on her dress, Pepper rested her hands on the table and leaned toward him, calm, neutral, and professional. Everything Tony wasn't right now.

"Protocol 42786, or it's working title "No work, no play for Tony," is set up so that I, and only I, can control what's transpiring. Everything deemed a distraction and not connected to the subject of the meeting, will not be available for you." 

In moments like this, Tony's glad, Pepper Potts was on his side. She leveled him with a cold gaze, demanding eye contact, and Tony felt like a petulant child. Eyes flicking here and there, resting for a moment on the AC in the corner, but eventually, they slid over and met with Peppers.   
No one said no to this woman, not without repercussions. 

"But what if Pet..."

"FRIDAY will alert us if there's an emergency," she rudely cut him off, pointed one impeccable manicured finger to his pile of documents. "Read and sign."

"But..." 

"Read." She flipped a page in her pamphlet. Tony swore he heard som tearing. 

So he tossed the useless phone on the polished table, flung himself back in his chair, and let out small grunts of annoyance while he tried to get comfy. He ignored the fact that his behavior bore similarities to when Peter, the two-year-old, didn't want to eat his broccoli and instead leave the table.

"You're bossy," he grumbled over a paper. At least he wanted to have last word privilege.

They worked in silence for a while, reading, taking notes, and signing some. It wasn't that bad, Tony begrudgingly admitted. He did enjoy his work. He just didn't want to do it that often.   
Paper's he could manage, stuffy people were an entirely different thing, sitting there in their starchy suits, no personalities, only ass-kissing or a longing to outdo Tony Stark. 

"I know you miss him and want to spend time with him. I'm not forcing you out of malice," Pepper spoke softly, almost hesitant, her voice filled the silent room sympathy. Tony felt a stab in his chest when he also noted a sad note in her tone. God, he's an ass. 

"I know, I'm sorry, Pepp."  
\-----  
The pair decided to eat in one of the other conference rooms between two video calls.   
Tony had fun on the latest one, a rare experience. A pale and nervous medical student from Dr. Cho's team stuttered through his dissertation, fiddling with his maroon tie, mussing it up even more than his hair.   
The kid had probably spent a long time selecting his outfit this morning, wanting to make a good impression on Tony.   
He looked like a young wannabe crazy scientist, and he approved of the look.   
Tony had asked Dr. Cho to fill him in on this project because of its use of nanites to stabilize severe spinal injuries. The guilt over Rhodey's legs still haunting him, maybe this can prevent it from happening again.   
The young Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz relaxed when Tony and Pepper began to supply him with questions, and soon he was rambling like a mad man too. Peter did the same ramble when he was excited, talking a mile a minute, wildly gesticulating with his hands, and all previous nerves gone. For a moment, Tony imagined that it was Peter standing in front of them, presenting new projects, or new ways to drive Stark Industries forward. Peter didn't know that Tony already made him a part of his company's future.   
He hadn't figured out how to tell the kid. "Hey, you're now the heir of my multi-billions company. Surprise." It was a little on the nose.

Papers, Ipads, pens, takeout boxes, and napkins were all fighting for space on the big table. After the third conference call, they decided to stop fighting the mess and move to the room next door for the meetings, effectively hiding the mess from prying eyes.   
It was nearing eight PM, and this was the last thing. Tony could cry. Even Pepper looked a bit frayed around the edges by this time, ponytail not so sleek anymore.

Tony wanted it to be over, but for it to end, it had to start, and this call made his stomach knot.   
An uproaring amongst people affected by the invasion of New York had recently gained intensity. A group of civilians who blamed the Avengers for all their losses, accusing them of not doing enough to stop the Chitauries from reaching farther into the city and letting them cause more damage than needed.   
Tony had tried to solve the problem by strewing more money over them, but they did not want money. They wanted a head on a stick, more preferably his head. The group wanted an apology, wanted to know what happened, and why they let it go so far.   
Pepper and the legal team had worked for weeks, trying to oblige the group, but they were adamant in their demands.   
A meeting with Tony Stark. 

Tony had tried to keep this hidden from the rest of the Avengers, knowing he could handle it without causing the team more harm. Some scars should not be scratched, and especially when they were not the cause of them.  
Natasha had cornered him one day, threatening him no to do anything stupid. Of course, she knew. Once a spy, always a spy, old habits hard to wash out. She promised him not to tell anyone else for a while, at least. 

So Tony plastered on his big, fake paparazzi smile, feeling his anxiety thrumming and crawling under his skin. Reliving that day was painful and not something he wanted to do. 

Opening the line and they were off. It went on for hours and hours, sending Tony's stress levels through the roof. He discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his slacks, clawing at the fabric, feeling his heart racing uncomfortably behind his arc reactor.   
Files after files filled with pictures, testimonies, and rapports, flashed across monitors.   
Tony went through it all on autopilot, fighting to make his apologies sound sincere, force out the right responses and solutions, and keep up appearances.   
Gradually, the talk dwindled out. The group got their meeting, their apologies, their explanations, and there was nothing left but a dense sorrowful silence.

He glanced over to Pepper, who kept this eerily calm persona going and pushed on when all Tony wanted was to run.   
He died that day. He died alone that day, surrounded by a blackness so empty, and wast it scared him to the bone. He died and couldn't help his friends. He lost them and couldn't save them.

Tony snapped back to reality by a gentle squeeze on his wrist, jolting upright, he blinked and found Pepper kneeling beside his chair. 

"Hey..." He managed a smile, he thinks, he didn't know if the muscles in his face worked. Everything was numb and sluggish, his brain and his body.

"Hey... You okay?" She rubbed her thumb over his tanned skin, anchoring him. He glanced down, noticing the contrast between their skin tones, her delicate, light, pale fingers, running over his darker, coarse, scars ridden ones. 

"The meeting..?" His brain still slow like he just woke up.

"Don't worry about it. I took care of it, and both sides are pleased." Staring down at the amazing woman before him, he felt unbelievably lucky. How the hell did he manage to keep her? 

"I'm giving you a raise." A sincere thank you is difficult sometimes.

"You're welcome," she smiled knowingly at him, loosening his tie, and they both stood up. Tony's knees not quite steady yet, and his palms were still sweaty and gross. 

"Go see your little boy."  
\-------  
On the elevator ride up, he tried to stomp down the anxiety, but it remained simmering under his skin. He raked his fingers down his face and through his hair, messing it up in all directions.   
Tony shook his hands, trying to get the circulation going and get rid of the tingling sensation, but no matter what he did, it remained. 

"Breathe in and out, in through your mouth and out through your nose." Repeating it over and over in his head in an attempt to persuade his body to calm down. Ignore the clawing in his chest, the vise around his torso.

Filling his lungs with air, helped to stifle the oncoming panic attack. 

Peter. Tony needed to see his kid. 

Stumbling out of the elevator and down the dimly lit hallway, he finally reached Peter's room. Gently pushing the door open, he peeked inside, immediately spotting the small lump under the cover.   
The clawing feeling eased while he listened to the soft snores and murmurs, the kid talked even while he slept. One little foot poked out from the blanket mound, twitching now and then. Voff the seal, placed by his pillow, keeping watch over him in his sleep.  
Peter was here, safe and happy. Tony could see him, he could hear him, and he could smell him. 

"Tony?" He nearly fell through the open door at the sound of Steve's whisper.

"Jesus, Spangles. Trying to give me a heart attack?" He probably looked ready to be committed for observations.

"Sorry, I did say your name three times." Steve looked worried, why was he worried? Did something happen to Peter while he was locked away? 

The thrumming began to increase again, filling his ears with cotton, and his hands went all clammy.

"Is everything alright, Tony?" Tony snapped his head between Steve and the sleeping Peter. "Tony..?"

"Is Peter okay?" Something in his voice must have set the other man off, cause he furrowed his eyebrows even more.

"He's perfectly fine, missed you today, but other than that, he's fine. Natasha read him to sleep, took a while, he wanted to wait for you."

Tony nodded to himself, murmuring, "Okay," under his breath. Gripping the doorframe so hard, he felt the edges cut into his hands. It helped to keep him in reality. Tingling in the back of his neck made him aware that Steve still waited for an answer and observed him cautiously like he was a frightened animal. 

"I'm... I'm fine... Yeah, just a long day. Stuffy oldies meddling in things out of their league." Tony blew air out his nose to get a handle on his nerves. His body was jittery, and his mind dazed. "I'm going to bed."

One more look at the tiny bundle, Tony wanted to go to him, but he was afraid he would wake him. So he turned, dodging Steve's outstretched hand, and fled to his room. 

Tony didn't sleep. He closed his eyes and laid down but didn't sleep. Something dragged him under, pressing his chest further and further down into the mattress, restricting his breathing and movements. Preventing him from waking up, a prisoner in his mind.

Floating in space, alone, he fought and gasped for air, fought to end the dissolving into nothingness.   
Grey unnaturally long fingers scrambled across his chest, seeking the reactor, sinking through him where his body turned to dust. Sounds were dull and warped. He could feel them more than hear them scatter around him, over him, in him.   
Behind his never closed lids, he noticed blue, purple, and green lights saturating the otherwise pitch-black darkness encircling him.  
He couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't move, only float and watch.  
Shapes appeared in the emptiness, formed by the darkness and solidified to humanlike patches of inky black. He feared them, instinctively knew they were wrong.  
The human shadows lightened, revealing body after body, strewn around like tossed away puppets. Marionettes with their strings cut.  
Deep within he knew who they were. He felt them. 

The faces of his friends stared up at him with dead cold eyes. Pale faces morphed in agony and fear. Steve, Natasha, Bruce, Thor, Sam, Clint, and Peter.   
The teenager laid on his back thrown to an invisible ground, head turned to Tony, wheezing his last breaths. With every inhale, blood trickled down his side, coating the black ground under him.   
Panic squeezed Tony's chest tighter and tighter, blocking all air, but he didn't care. He needed to get to his kid. 

The grey figures swarmed around the boy and Tony, blocking his view of Peter. Tony caught glimpses of the kid sprawled out motionless except for the faint rise and fall of his chest and flicking off his eyes.  
Long slender fingers caressed the boy's throat almost lovingly, adding pressure to the already struggling breathing. 

In his mind, Tony fought, he screamed, and he killed.   
Hands grabbed at him, pulling him away from his son, scratching at the reactor. 'figures crawled up his legs and forced his chest down. He was immovable, locked in place by the nothingness.

Brown terrified eyes locked with Tony's, and he witnessed the moment Peter couldn't hold on any longer. Young warm eyes closed one last time, life slipping away, and Tony broke.   
He lost everyone, he was alone, and his kid was dead. Everything hurt, and everything was simultaneously numb. Tears spilled down his cheeks, but he couldn't sob, couldn't breathe. Tony died with Peter, surrounded by emptiness.

A sharp blow right at his arc reactor broke the vice around his body, and he shot up. With one last burst of energy, Tony shoved the figures and their hands away. He finally felt the pressure around his chest ease and something fell off him. 

Tony knew the gauntlet formed around his hand and felt it wander up over his wrist. He raised his arm, aiming the gauntlet toward the scattering.

His son was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Puh...  
> This one didn't want to end and it wasn't supposed to go this dark but it just got away from me a bit.   
> I know it's not the fluffy fluff fluff you're used to and wants, but I do hope you'll like this one too. I promise we'll get back to the fluff and cuteness quite soon.
> 
> I'm not well adverse in writing heavy angst, please comment if you think something is off.
> 
> I love and live for all the lovely feedback I received. 
> 
> Thank you all!


	7. Picknick with earthworms and herbivores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony deals with the aftermath and Peter explore the outside world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my... What is this? A chapter from the worst consistent wanna be author.  
> Hope you guys enjoy a little update from our sickly fluffy family constellation. 
> 
> A big thanks to those of you that missed me and left comments. 
> 
> Love!

Waking up to blaring alarms is considered everyday life for the Avengers. Too often, the city of New York, another city, or the entire world needed assistance from their superheroes. It came with the job to always be ready, constantly on jour, like a superpowered boy scout.

Steve threw his warm blankets off, nearly tripping over one of Peter's plushies in his hurry to get to his gear. How did that end up in his room? Even after this short time, the kid had managed to infiltrated all their living spaces.  
The practiced experience made all his movements precise and robotic, leaving his mind clear and ready to comprehend mission details delivered from FRIDAY. 

"Peter is in immediate danger in Boss's sleeping quarters. Boss seems to experience a flashback, and his vitals show he's under great distress."

"What?"  
Dread engulfed him. Forgoing his suit and other gear, he only grabbed his shield and rushed out. Steve ripped the door open without any reservations, causing it to crash into the wall, scattering bits of plaster and splinters of wood all over the pristine floor. He couldn't care less, though. Peter was in danger.

Thankfully Steve's room was located closest to Tony's. With supersoldier speed, the race only took a few seconds. Steve's panicked mind construed it as far too long. 

When he wrenched the door open, his mind had trouble comprehending the situation.  
Steve heard heavy breathing, rapid, irregular heartbeats, and the soft whir and whine of repulsors. Tony's heartbeats, Tony's breathing, and Tony's right arm raised and enveloped in a gauntlet.  
The repulsor's icy-cold glow illuminated the dim room, casting a blue light at the small figure sitting curled up on the floor. 

"Tony..." Steve's wished his voice didn't waver as much as it did, but the impossible scenario in front of him was too horrifying, too unreal.  
Neither Tony nor Peter responded. Both frozen in terror. One in his mind and one in reality.

"Tony, it's Steve. You're in your room. You're having a flashback. I need you to lower your hand."

Steve slowly stepped towards the silently crying boy, maneuvering himself to stand in front of Peter. Careful not to break eye contact with Tony, he lowered his shield to the floor, leaving it to rest against his knees and shielding Peter.  
It had to do for now.

"It's okay, Pete. You're going to be fine." The Captain nudged his heel against the boy and felt small hands grasp the pajama leg.

God, he needed to get him away.

Footsteps and gasps made the presence of the others known, but Steve couldn't look away. His focus was on Tony and the activated gauntlet. 

In his peripheral vision, he saw Bucky edge his way into the room. 

Tony's hand twitched ominously every time Steve or Bucky moved, and the man's other hand scratched at his sweat-drenched shirt. No, over the arc reactor. 

"Tony, it's Steve. Please lower the gauntlet." This time the man blinked, blank eyes flicking up to meet Steve's.  
"You're in your room and safe, but you're scaring Peter, Tony."

Behind him, he felt Bucky kneel by Peter's side, gently trying to pry the boy's hands away and, at the same time, place his body between the repulsor and the child.

Please, get him out. Please, get him away, Steve chanted in his head. At the same time, Tony choked on a gasp, haunted eyes leaving Steve's. 

The mechanic's hand jerked, fingers twitching, and the whirring increased.

Oh, God, no! 

"Tony!" Steve launched forward. 

\-----

"I could've killed him." Tony slouched over and pressed his palms over his eyes. "Jesus, I could have killed him, May!" He forced a breath down his lungs and let it wheeze out between clenched teeth and more gauging at his eyes. 

"But you didn't."

It's only been two days since the incident. Since Tony almost killed his kid and the man reacted precisely how the team anticipated.  
After Steve's shout brought him back to reality and the (thankfully) not used gauntlet dismantled and fell to the floor, Tony rode out the worst panic attack he'd ever undergone.  
Conscious enough to see Bucky leave with Peter tightly clutched in his arms, but then his world went to hell.  
Steve's calm and safe presence did nothing to ease his racing heart and restricted breaths, forcing Bruce to make the call and sedate him. 

The team knew Tony would blame himself. None other did. They were all far too familiar with PTSD and flashbacks. But, it didn't take away from the horror of the situation. 

When Tony left the medical wing, before Bruce could clear him, they all anticipated him to lock himself in his lab. 

They were accurate. Tony did not anticipate FRIDAY to betray him and let Rhodey and Steve in there with him. Not that they would set up camp in his private lab.  
One stubborn to death supersoldier that Tony couldn't move and one calm as a rock best friend, who threatened to disconnect his leg braces and therefore be stuck on the floor. 

It took several more panic attacks, an innumerable amount of tears (and snot), and Captain America almost getting punched in the face before Tony calmed down enough to listen to reason.  
Then it took a couple of hours of watching FRIDAY'S recordings of toddler Peter (and some more tears) before the three men left the lab.

Tony didn't dare to stay close to Peter when he finally joined the rest of the team, but Peter wouldn't have any of that. He bawled his eyes out and letting out heartwrenching sobs until someone dropped him off in Tony's arms. 

"This woman," Tony thought and dug his hands in harder. The pressure helped against his raging headache.  
Ever since that night, he barely slept at all. Nightmares plagued him as soon as he closed his eyes, scenes of a terrified little boy curled up on the floor. A boy hid behind Steve's shield, his boy hiding from him. 

"It wasn't-"

"If you say "it wasn't my fault" I'm gonna-"

"You gonna do what? Smack me or send me home?" Tony felt the glare from the woman next to him on the bench without even looking over at her. 

"May-"

"No, time to shut up the adult is talking. Yeah, he told me about that."

When Tony raised his head, May pinned him with one of those glares Peter often told him about, the scary one.  
So he sat up straighter, flattened down his ruffled hair to disguise a gulp, and shut up. 

"Good." She peered out over the lawn and smiled when she noticed her baby boy rolling around in the grass. He had abandoned his tricycle, and now it looked like Natasha and Thor tried to teach him to somersault. May couldn't determine if Thor or Peter were the worst. 

She let the sun warm her face a few seconds before sighing and turned back to Tony. 

"Now, what happened can never happen again. Not now, not ever. You'll fix that as soon as possible." May tipped her head, and Tony caught her eyes. Without a word, he nodded. He already solved the problem during his self-inflicted isolation. Tony will never be able to call for the suit or activate anything unconscious again.

"And what happened was an accident. It wasn't your fault. You would never hurt that boy, and if you believe that, you are even more stupid than I thought." A kick to his shin punctuated the woman's last word.

"When Pete was four, I pushed him down the stairs, and he broke his arm. He skipped around my legs when I was walking up with the groceries, and I didn't see him. One of the bags collided with him, and I saw him tumble down the steps. I heard the crack when his arm broke.  
It was an accident. I didn't mean it, and it wasn't my fault, but it still happened. I felt terrible over it for months, but all Peter was angry at was the apple that hit him in the head on the way down."

May's red-tinged eyes met Tony's again.  
"Say it after me: it wasn't my fault." Another kick earned her a scowl from Tony, but he obediently mumbled the phrase while rubbing at his aching shin.  
He barely had time to snatch his fingers away before her Birkenstock-clad foot once again collided with his leg.

"Hey, stop with the abuse. I said it," Tony snapped.

"Nuh-uh. Eye contact and loud and clear. Did you forget that I raised the mini version of you? I know a whole lot about guilt complex."

For safety reasons, he scooted further away from the woman and out of reach for her damn legs.  
All Tony wanted was to roll his eyes so excessively they'd disappear in his head. It was his fault. Nobody could tell him otherwise, but he knew May wouldn't settle without confirmation. So, time to suck it up and fake it.

"Fine, it wasn't my fault I almost blasted a toddler to ground beef in my sleep." By the instantaneous appearance of a couple of new frown lines on May's face, that was not the right thing to say.  
Faster than Tony could blink, she picked her feet up from the ground and kicked him off the bench. 

"Goddamnit!" His teeth jarred when he landed butt first in the grass. He might have deserved that. It didn't stop him from whirl around, ready to challenge the woman to the greatest snark off's of all time. 

"Oooooonyyyy!" 

That did, though. 

Sitting on his ass in the grass, he suddenly found himself tackled by a tiny red and blue missile. Peter flung himself at Tony, chubby arms encircling his neck in a breathtaking hug. Also known as strangulation. 

"Hi, Bubby. Eas up on the boa constrictor act, maybe?" Tony pried the boy's hands from his neck and placed Peter in his lap facing him. 

"Nassa helped Pe'er o 'oll." The kid bounced up and down on Tony's thighs, cheeks glowing red with excitement. 

"Oh, she did?" He released one of Peter's hands to pick straws of grass out of his wild curls. Tony smoothed down the little red cape, Thor's gift, and a pang of guilt shot through him.  
The boy had begun to use the garment more often after the incident. According to Natasha, Peter wasn't afraid of Tony. He supposedly didn't grasp what nearly happened, but he knew he was frightened and needed a safety blanket.

"Uh-hu. Oony, 'oll?" Peter tipped his head to the side, recently tamed curls bobbing to the side, in a manner Tony had seen in an excited teenaged Peter.

"Nope, too old to roll, sorry, Kiddo." 

"But 'Or can 'oll, and 'Or is a aous- aousand yea's old." The kid furrowed his brows while trying to mouth the word.

"Thousand."

"Aousand," Peter parroted.

"Yeah, but Tony lived with the dinosaurs." Rhodey strode towards them, balancing a sandwich-filled tray. 

Tony watched the kids eyes as they grew comically wide, lips slightly parted. His mouth was fully open when he tipped his head back to gawk at Rhodey.

"Dino?"

"Rhode, don't-" 

"Yep, Squirt. Tony lived with the dinosaurs. He used to ride on their backs, faster than walking."

Peter turned back to Tony with so much admiration in his eyes that he didn't have the heart to correct him. Damn Rhodey.

"It's true, but you have to watch out for the ones with spikes on their backs."

Peter, still wide-eyed, just nodded along, soaking up every word said by his hero. Guess a Dinosaur rider trumped being Iron Man.

"I hope everyone is hungry," Steve called, placing another tray filled with colorful cups and jugs on the picnic table. All that was missing was a flowery apron, and "Steve the housewife" would be complete.  
Tony snorted to himself. He did look good thou.

An outcry of happy shouts filled their once-peaceful grove.

"Great, I'm starving."

"Fresh air always makes me hungry."

"You're always hungry, you idiot."

"Mind your language, kids around."

"No, I'm hangry."

Something nudged Tony's leg, looking up, he met May's eyes. One eyebrow raised questioningly, head tipped to the side, and arms crossed over her chest.  
Tilting his head forward to sit forehead against forehead with Peter, who gladly patted both his cheeks with surprisingly non-sticky hands, Tony admitted his defeat. 

"Fine, it wasn't my fault."

Peter took the opportunity to seal the deal with a kiss. A sloppy, open-mouthed one right over Tony's nose. 

\-----

"Pete, can you come up and sit here at the table?"

"No."

"No?" 

"No." 

Tony tried to get the energetic boy to sit down at the table for ten minutes now, but he continued to roam around under it instead. Even the mighty Thor came up short, much to Tony's great pleasure.

"Peter, your belly needs some food." A valiant effort from Steve, but the kid ignored him too.

"Kid," Tony bent down to peek under the table, "if you wanna play more later, you need to eat something." 

"No, Pe'er can't." The boy crawled away from Tony and plopped down by Rhodey's feet, picking at the grass.

Blood began to rush to Tony's head from his half bent over position, and he could feel his face turning bright red, the vein in his forehead start to bulge. 

"Of course you can. Pick a seat and sit there."

"No, Pe'er can't si' at 'he table."

"Wow, excellent pedagogy, Stark." 

"Oh, you try it, Birdbrain. You're the parental expe- Now, he's eating grass! Peter, spit that out! Rhodey, stop him!" 

Beside him, May Parker burst out laughing. Red-faced, sweaty, and once again defeated by a toddler, Tony sat up to sought help from his co-parent. The woman wiped tears from her eyes but didn't offer up any guidance. 

"Your nephew is eating grass. He might get poisoned. Help me!" Tony wasn't too tuff to beg and plead.

"He's fine. Between age two-four, he used to eat leaves all the time. Of the streets. Ben and I would probably qualify for a punch ticket at the ER, after all the times we rushed him in." 

She accepted the napkin Pepper offered her and dabbed it under her eyes. 

"You can tease him bout that later, that one for free. And about this problem." She tapped the tabletop with a finger." Peter is a sweet kid, but he tends not to do as you order him, as you all might know by now." Mumbled affirmatives came from almost all heroes sitting at the table. "Have you tried to ask him why he can't eat at the table?"

Natasha, who currently sat closest to Peter, dipped down under the tabletop, her long braid falling over her shoulder. She gave the boy a soft smile.

"Hi, baby."

Peter, who had a corner of his caped stuffed in his mouth, a few straws of grass too, sat and picked at her shoelaces. He gave her a goofy smile from behind the cape and waved back.

"Why can't you eat at the table, sweety?" 

The boy spat the fabric out, twisting his tongue around to get rid of the blade of grass. He gobbed and sputtered before answering her.

"Peter is a 'urm." 

"Peter is what?" Natasha still wasn't fluid in toddler talk, but Tony was.

The man once again contorted his body to bend down to see Peter snack on more grass. Screw May's lackadaisical philosophy about herbivore eating, the kid gets a visit with Bruce later.

"You can't sit at the table because you're a worm?"

Enthusiastic nodding and fumbling for more vegetation met him.

"And worms don't live and eat above the ground."

More vigorous nodding.

"Here." Tony heard Clint's voice and soon saw his hand reach under the table, a piece of bread between his thumb and index finger. Peter spat out green mush over Natashas pant leg and sandals, oops, and snatched the treat from Clint's fingers. After munching it down, he patted Clint's knee for more, gladly accepting the offered apple slice. 

Tony huffed out a laugh, this kid, and sat back up again to start on his sandwich. 

"You can't win them all. Sometimes you need to compromise." May bumped his side with her elbow and raised her cup. "To, co-parenting."

"To co-parenting." Tony echoed, simultaneously he felt a small tap on his knee. Without looking, Tony broke off a piece of cheese and offered it to the Peter-worm. Not able to hide the cringe when something warm and slimy encompassed his fingers.  
Great, more drool. Why did this kid consist of 99% drool?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!  
> I just published this first chapter to see if I need to do some large changes in the way I write, got a few more chapters lined up ready to go.  
> Do you guys have some scenario you would like to see tiny Peter and his big family in, just let me know! Requests are so much fun!  
> Thanks again and I really would appreciate your comments and kudos!


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